9

The Slaying of Niśumbha

9.1

The king said:

9.2

“Wonderful is this, revered sir, that you have told me about the Devī’s glorious deed in slaying Raktabīja.

9.3

I wish to hear more about what Śumbha and the wrathful Niśumbha did after Raktabīja was killed.”

9.4

The seer said:

9.5

“After Raktabīja was killed and the others slain in battle, Śumbha and Niśumbha fell into unparalleled rage.

9.6

Seeing that his mighty army was being slaughtered, Niśumba was overcome with fury and rushed forward with the best of his demon forces.

9.7

In front of him, behind him, and on both sides, great asuras, their lips compressed in anger, advanced to slay the Devī.

9.8

Having battled the Mothers, Śumbha, mighty in valor and surrounded by his forces, came forward in fury to attack the Devī.

9.9

Fierce fighting erupted between them, and like two thunderclouds, Śumbha and Niśumbha rained down torrents of arrows on the Devī.

9.10

Caikā intercepted them with her own volley of arrows and struck the demon chiefs in the limbs with a stream of weapons.

9.11

Niśumbha, seizing his sharpened spear and shining shield, struck the lion, the Devī’s magnificent mount, on the head.

9.12

Her lion assaulted, the Devī swiftly cut through Niśumbha’s superb sword with her razor-sharp arrow and through his shield, emblazoned with eight moons.

9.13

His shield and sword broken, the asura hurled his spear, and as it came toward her, that, too, the Devī cut in half with her discus.

9.14

Blustering with rage, the dānava Niśumbha seized his lance, and as it came flying, the Devī crushed it with a blow of her fist.

9.15

Then swinging his club, Niśumbha flung it at Caikā. The Devī’s trident reduced it to ashes.

9.16

After wounding the onrushing demon chief with ax in hand, the Devī forced him to the ground with a volley of arrows.

9.17

When he saw Niśumbha, his brother of fearsome strength, lying fallen on the ground, Śumbha moved forward, greatly enraged, to slay Ambikā.

9.18

Standing in his chariot and holding aloft magnificent weapons, he shone forth and filled the entire sky with his eight incomparable arms.

9. 19

While she watched him approach, the Devī sounded her conch, set off an unbearable reverberation with her bowstring,

9.20

and filled the firmament with the ringing of her bell, which sapped the strength of the assembled demon armies.

9.21

Then the lion filled every direction with great roars that caused even the elephants’ mighty prowess to falter.

9.22

Kālī sprang skyward and alighted, pounding the earth with her two hands. The noise drowned out all the previous sounds.

9.23

Śivadūtī laughed loudly and menacingly. When the asuras grew terrified at the sounds, Śumbha flew into a monstrous rage.

9.24

Ambikā cried out for him, that evil-natured one, to stop, and the gods cheered her on to victory from their positions in the sky.

9.25

But Śumbha approached and hurled a fearsome, flaming spear, an oncoming mass of fire that the Devī’s own firebrand warded off.

9.26

Śumbha’s leonine roar pervaded the space between heaven, earth, and the netherworld, but the Devī’s violent thunderclap drowned it out, O king.

9.27

The Devī split Śumbha’s flying arrows with sharp arrows of her own, and likewise he split hers, each discharging arrows by the hundreds and thousands.

9.28

Then the enraged Caikā pierced Śumbha with her lance. Wounded, he fainted and fell to the ground.

9.29

Meanwhile Niśumbha, regaining consciousness, seized his bow and shot arrows at the Devī, Kālī, and the lion.

9.30

And then, creating ten thousand arms for himself, the daitya chief, that son of Diti, engulfed Caikā with ten thousand discuses.

9.31

Thus provoked, the glorious Durgā, who destroys adversity and afflictions, cut through his discuses and missiles with arrows of her own.

9.32

Niśumbha, surrounded by his demon army, swiftly seized his club and rushed at Caikā to kill her.

9.33

Instantly she split the onrushing Niśumbha’s club with her keen-edged sword. He grasped his lance,

9.34

and as he approached with weapon in hand, Caikā pierced him, the afflictor of the gods, through the heart with a swiftly hurled spear.

9.35

From his heart’s gaping wound came forth another mighty and valorous being, who shouted for the Devī to stop.

9.36

Bursting into derisive laughter, she severed his head with her sword, and the figure who had thus emerged fell to the ground.

9.37

The lion then devoured the asuras whose necks it had crushed with its fearsome fangs, while Kālī and Śivadūtī devoured others.

9.38

Great asuras perished, pierced through by Kaumārī’s spear; others shrank away from the water sanctified by Brahmāī’s mantras.

9.39

Others fell, ripped open by Māheśvarī’s trident; some lay on the ground, smashed by the blows of Vārāhī’s snout.

9.40

Dānavas were cut to pieces, some by Vaiavī’s discus and others by the thunderbolt discharged from Aindrī’s fingertips.

9.41

Some asuras perished, some fled from the great battle, and others were devoured by Kālī, Śivadūtī, and the lion.”

Chapter 9 Commentary

9.1–3: The word māhātmya, which is an element of the title Devīmāhātmya, appears in the text for the first time in verse 9.2 and will recur several times in Chapter 12. Derived from mahātman (“having a noble nature”), māhātmya is an abstract noun meaning “magnanimity, majesty, exaltedness.” By extension, it came to denote a kind of literary composition that glorifies the “distinctive greatness” of a deity, a sacred place, or anything else worthy of veneration.1

9.4–41: In a long battle sequence, the Devī fights one-on-one first with Niśumbha, then with Śumbha, and again with Niśumbha. At the end, Niśumbha is slain, and Śumbha lies unconscious. To understand the nature of this battle, we need to know exactly what Niśumbha represents, but by chapter’s end, the slain asura still remains an indistinct personality. The structure of the battle affords an important clue, however. The vacillation, wherein one brother is disabled only as the other rises up again, hints at the intimate connection between the two. At the beginning of the next chapter, which forms a seamless continuation of the narrative, we learn that Niśumbha was to Śumbha “as dear to him as life itself’ (10.2). If we recall also Śumbha’s puzzling marriage proposal, made through the messenger, that the Devī choose either him or his valiant younger brother, Niśumbha (5.113), we see again an extreme intimacy. From this, we can deduce that if Śumbha is the ego (ahakāra), Niśumbha is its tag-along sibling, the persistent, clinging sense of attachment (mamatva, marnatā).2 Niśumbha is as dear to Śumbha as life itself, because the ego cherishes its attachment to body, mind, possessions, and all the other adjuncts that shape its identity.

In Sanskrit, such an adjunct is called an upādhi, meaning variously a defining attribute, a limiting qualification, a substitute, anything that may be taken for something else, appearance mistaken for reality. The ego’s sense of identity derives from the totality of a human being’s upadhis: physical appearance, demeanor, likes and dislikes, family roles and relationships, relationships outside the family, and societal roles involving gender, profession, nationality, religious affiliation, and whatever else makes each one of us unique. While Śumbha represents the subjective ego-awareness itself (I-ness), Niśumbha symbolizes the attachment to all its objective attributes (me-ness and my-ness). The Devī’s battle with the asura brothers is the infinite spirit’s struggle with the finite ego’s persistent, borrowed sense of personal identity. Ego and attachment are almost inextricably linked, and when one brother is knocked out, the other rises up again.

Niśumbha, gloriously arrayed, represents attachment to fame, influence, wealth, possessions, and the identity they confer. His shield emblazoned with eight moons is a sign of personal identity. But in the end, all that is of little value; the final meaning of upādhi is not “defining attribute” but “appearance mistaken for reality.” That point is made when Niśumbha, in all his splendor, is knocked senseless to the ground. Even so, he rises up again in horrifying desperation, a monster with ten thousand arms, grasping as it were at the countless pieces of his individuality that, in truth, are worthless tokens of his separation from the Infinite. The Devī shatters them all.

Then with her spear, she penetrates his heart. Sometimes spiritual awakening dawns only after the experience of great pain, a severe wounding of the heart. The suffering of the king and the merchant over their worldly losses is that pain of mamatva (“my-ness”), or attachment (1.42, 44). Now Niśumbha’s essence appears from his heart’s gaping wound, still reluctant to let go, pleading for the Devī to stop, but exposed and defenseless before her sword of knowledge. She slays him, and with Niśumbha destroyed, only Śumbha remains.